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MY POETRY HOME — trespassers welcome

The Poet's PrayerWritten For ASSA Editorial Board, Kwara Poly, Ilorin.
(Thursday, December 7th, 2000)
I guess the most wasted of all days
is that on which the clergyman
makes me sick telling me about
my duties to God, making me
lay about in the dark to weep for
my sins at night.

But I hate to waste my days
and the monotony of liturgical prayers
make me wish for a nap instead.

But then, just one simple look at her,
and a simple grateful thought raised to heaven,
is the most effective prayer
I ever offer every good moment of my life:

I give thanks to the Lord
each time I meditate on what
a safe companion and easy friend she is:
quite mild of temper, gentle of manners.
In simplicity, almost a saint –
so courteous, so womanly, good goodness,
no madness, no affectations, no exhibitions.

She's neither black nor white,
but she's Afric and she's fine.
Her brown eyes speak a language at once
limpid and clear, and her sweet smile
is a darling sight to behold indeed –
it is the type that quells the
entropic chaos of a troubled mind.

My prayers are prayers of adoration,
thus whenever I adore Bukky,
I adore gracious beauty.
And having adored both Bukky and Beauty,
I raise a simple grateful thought to heaven;
and I have thereby said
the most perfect prayer also: